


Nowhere Fast

by the_sockpuppet



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Linorra - Freeform, korralin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sockpuppet/pseuds/the_sockpuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a slowly-recovering Korra meets a bitter Chief Beifong, years after a raid on an illegal fighting arena known as the Ring. A series of conversations as they bump into each other, exploring a modern Republic City, personal problems, and their feelings. Linorra/Korralin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude: take your body to the grave

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a rather bizarre modern AU exploring Korra as a streetfighter in an illegal arena run by Triads. Basically trained and paid like a dog, Korra and her fellow fighters are later 'freed' by a police raid, putting Lightning Bolt Zolt in jail for a whole bunch of crimes involving child labor, trafficking, and so on. Six years later Korra is a little more mature, and slowly uncovering the whole story behind those who 'gave' her and her fellow out-of-school street kids 'a chance'.
> 
> Lin on the other hand is a detective, promoted to Chief after taking down one of the Triads. Successful and strong on the outside, she has her own problems to resolve. She and Korra have a history of bumping into each other from the years-long crusade Lin waged to put an end to the Triads.
> 
> Credit goes to: minismores for 'Infinity is a Waiting Room', a fanfic that balances spiritual and physical aspects really well. It was the first streetfighter!Korra story I read and I enjoyed that aspect of her. That idea really stuck with me, and I wanted to give my own take on streetfighter!Korra, a version of her born without the identity of Avatar.
> 
> Lastly, all errors are mine, and yes, the age gap between Korra and Lin was lessened a tiny bit.

//

 

_Lin is 50, Korra is 22_

_Zaofu School of Dance_

_Main Corridor, Waiting Area_

 

"It's nice to see you again, Detective," Korra says politely, and Lin fights to keep down a surge of anger at the tone. It doesn't sound anything like the girl she met at an illegal ring six years ago, indignant and combustive. Korra's eyes look to the floor, whereas before Lin was always confronted with blue glares.

 

_It's nice to see you again._ The words are entirely artificial.

 

"Chief," Lin Beifong corrects, from two seats away.

 

"Chief," Korra says, after a sidelong glance. Korra -- Lin knows -- is considering what to say. She goes for the next polite thing. "Congratulations on your promotion."

 

Lin would say thanks, but she doesn't want to keep up the empty talk.

 

The hallways stretches out, long and well-maintained. Their words carry over the hum of air conditioning. Even while seated, Lin can tell Korra is still well-built, her features well-defined, but there's a guardedness to her that Lin can't admit hurts. If she dared to admit the sting, she would have to ask herself: why does it hurt? And then she'd have to open up a box that sank a long time ago, inside her head, trapping all the things she couldn't solve and therefore couldn't look at.

 

"What brings you here to Zaofu?"

 

"I'm accompanying my teacher for some work things."

 

Her teacher materializes at once from the left, having exited the administration office. It's Tenzin. Goddamned _Director_ Tenzin, famous in the newspapers for continuing his father's work in education.

 

Will today get the fuck off memory lane already?

 

"Lin?" he asks, coming closer to get a better view. "Small world. Strange to see you here." Strange, because of her family? Or strange, because she isn't a dancer?

 

"Work takes me everywhere," Lin replies. Korra stands immediately, joining Tenzin's side.

 

"There's a slot open for the dancing class," Tenzin tells her. "I've signed you up; you'll start next week."

 

Korra nods.

 

"You're her teacher?"

 

"Yes. You two... know each other?"

 

"She was the detective who brought me in," Korra says. Her voice has a little more life to it: the tone is sheepish. "Back when I was... at the Ring."

 

Tenzin raises his eyebrows. "We're cool now," Korra says quickly.

 

Lin nods. "She hasn't given me a reason to arrest her, at least."

 

"Well, we're trying to keep it that way at the School," Tenzin says.

 

They take their leave, Korra making an old Water Tribe bow to Lin as they leave.

 

Lin remembers Korra's age after she's left alone. Korra's twenty-two now, old enough to be done with college if she had the chance. But of course she never did -- not her, or her adopted brothers. The lines are drawn all around the city. those with a chance go _here --_ and in her mind Lin draws a line surrounding the theater, financial and business districts -- where the faces are pale from the lack of manual labor, where fingernails have never known grit.  The rest of the city toils under, immigrants from the Water Tribes, those from the Lower Rings of Ba Sing Se. It'd be so much easier if she didn't judge and only did her job, but at some point she found that she couldn't be a dog forever.

 

Korra was not the beginning of the end of Lin's love affair with the law. Korra was, in a way, the conclusion of it, the point at which Beifong decided she could either be lawful or good, but that the two didn't always intersect.

 

All that's ancient history now. Whatever's left of the Water Tribe fighter, it's that quiet lady with short hair that follows after Tenzin.

 

Wishing will not give Korra a chance. Beifongs know better than to rely on dreams and gods.

 

 

//

 

 

The next time Lin sees Korra (and she supposes she'd better get used to it) is the next week, when Korra is sparring after dance practice. Lin watches from afar, waiting for Opal to arrive. She's at the parking lot, watching the dancers sit around and stretch on the concrete, not caring about the grit. Korra is trading blows with another dark-skinned boy with a shock of black hair.

 

_Duck,_ Lin thinks. The thought does not telepathically transmit, and the kick lands perfectly on Korra's chin. She tumbles and rolls and sits up smiling, content with the bruise she'll be going home with tonight.

 

That's more like the Korra Lin remembers, completely incapable of evading anything, smashing headlong, stumbling over everything. Dumb as fuck, and just as tough.

 

 

//

 

 

_Korra is 16, Lin is 44_

_Function Room 2_

_District 12 PD  at the corner of Laghima and Sozin_

 

Korra drowns out the voice of the instructor in front of her. They're explaining what happened at the Ring, stuff about how it was a form of abuse or maybe child labor or maybe _something something something_ \-- the words drift away and the unease settles within her, starting from her stomach and erupting in twitchy movements of her toes and fingers.

 

She wonders where she will get the money to pay for Bolin's schooling. He's holding on at school, and she and Mako have agreed to keep it that way. Oh fuck. _Mako_. She hopes he hasn't heard about her being hauled in and all. Hopefully he's just gotten home and is still sleeping off the night shift stress at the Power Plant (what is stressing him out, she doesn't know. He never talks. Neither does she, to be fair.)

 

If only they still had employment in the circus. Her dad had been the strongman, the greatest freak of all as far as little Korra was concerned, but the circus was sniffed out, swallowed by _this_ : cubicles and straight edges and doors and telephones, and a chalkboard that looms over all the teenage fighters. The board is telling them: you were paid amusement, betted on, and so on and so forth. There's something about injuries, a picture of a ballooning ear called a cauliflower ear, talk about mental impairments.

 

The guy speaks with the same know-all attitude Korra hated when she was still in school. Some of the kids are glaring, but their glares reflect off the ignorant haze of self-righteousness the instructor has protecting him. Korra glares as well, but stops when she sees someone from the mezzanine window. The detective in charge of the raid on the Ring. _Whatever lady,_ Korra thinks. Lightning Bolt Zolt will find her another place, and she'll win big time.

 

She turns off her thoughts and stares emptily ahead. All this anger, she'll take out on the next fight. She imagines the perfect smash of her fist into someone's face, the artless way she's made every opponent fall.

 

_That'll show them._

 

 

//

 

 

_Korra is 22, Lin is 50_

_Zaofu School of Dance, 3rd Floor_

_Outside the Director's Office_

 

She can hear shouting on the other end of the room, something about mothers. Korra tries to block it out. It's Chief Beifong's voice, and if she recalls correctly, the other voice is Suyin Beifong, the Director of the Zaofu School of Dance. _Well, duh_ , she thinks. Same last name. Same illustrious family. _I should_ _have connected the dots sooner._

 

Korra walks outside to give the sisters some privacy. Technically she isn't outside; she's only at the balcony. And technically, they're at the third floor of a dance studio, a very public place, but --

 

She walks away anyway, swinging open the doors that lead into the wide expanse of the balcony. She wonders how Lin -- with her shitty apartment, her everyday requirement of five mugs of instant coffee, her beat up office couch -- could be related to Suyin Beifong, who practically runs the whole Theater district. Suyin's office is all abstract art sculptures and pottery; Lin's office (if she remembers correctly) stank of someone who slept, ate, and worked inside a hole baked day after day by the sun.

 

Of course, now that Lin's Chief, maybe she can afford to have someone clean the office out once a month. Rather than once a year. Or once a decade. The lame jibe dies, unsaid and unbidden, in Korra's mind.

 

In the distance, so far that it sounds like water, Korra hears the door slam.

 

She resists the urge to run to Lin and ask if she's okay. Tenzin's advice has been for her to think before acting. Korra wishes she could run up to Lin and say: _I haven't been in the Ring for years._ She wants to ask Lin how she's been, go through an entire conversation proving that somehow she's passed the test; made it across the line from fighting till she dies to fighting till she lives. Korra thinks she's very clever for having thought that.

 

Her sixteen year old version would punch her present self for going over to the dark side, where people walk on pedestrian lanes and have actual business to go to. On some days she still wonders if she likes this new Korra. On some days she still shadowboxes, sneaks out of meditation, runs laps as though Toza's still screaming at her. On some days she misses the pats on the shoulder from Zolt after every win.

 

Lin would say _you're_ _screwed up._ Korra would agree.

 

She remembers how the Ring once swallowed her whole. She never learned how to duck or evade, only to take a hit and give it back. Life had been simpler back then: fight, win, spend the money. It's a straight ticket to dying in some alleyway, a funeral where the trash sit at the wake and the garbage collectors take your body to the mass grave called the dumpsite.

 

She wants to thank Lin for dragging her out of the Ring all those years ago. She can't really vouch for all the other fighters -- Tahno's gone, maybe dead; Chang's withered away into drugs. On the upside Hasook's on the straight and narrow like her and Bolin and Mako work at the Greenhouse and the Power Plant. Korra still chafes under the thought of being here, going somewhere in a straight line, but she looks down into the street and thinks she could be dead too, and then her parents would never forgive the city for something that would be her fault.

 

She stays at the balcony rather than go into Suyin's office. The older woman could probably use some time off from whatever fight she has with Lin.

 

She wonders why they never spoke to each other after Lin finished closing down the Rings, cutting off one artery out of the many that comprised the city's triads. Likely she went on to cut another head off the hydra. She wants to ask Lin about that, the futility of fighting.

 

Korra wishes she could call the older woman a friend.


	2. as see through as before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Korra has dinner with Suyin Beifong's family, recalls an old ambush, and tries to talk to the Chief. It's an uphill struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing with this story, so any feedback is ... really appreciated. I'm a bit worried that the flashbacks and the like will become confusing, so... yeah. Also, any offers to edit / beta/ just talk would be really appreciated. Sometimes I can't tell if my structure is ok or not.
> 
> I don't know why I can't stop shipping Lin and Korra. They just seem to be really strong personalities that have real conflicts to fix, and really interesting experiences. I hope you guys feel the same way about them and their struggles as I do.
> 
> Lastly, all errors are mine. This is all hot off the press, with only quick fixes.

_Korra is 22, Kuvira is 25_

_Beifong Compound_

_Dinner Hall_

 

Korra looks at all the bowls and plates she's helping to set. She can't help but think about how they're very _Su_. Artistic and handmade, probably. The whole house is an extension of the matriarch's personality, everyone in their proper place, put there by her hand.

 

Tonight Su is having dinner with Tenzin and a few other friends from some board or another, and Tenzin's invited her. Korra wonders how people place her: not his kid, but more than his student. She isn't sure she's his protege, doesn't think so, but people probably assume. The right word for Tenzin is _Master_ , really, but no one talks like that, as though they're from old-time kung fu movies.

 

"Hey, thanks for the help," Kuvira says, next to her. "You don't have to, y'know."

 

"Eh, I like keeping busy. I didn't know we'd be having such a large dinner though. I mean, do you guys eat here everyday?" The room would have fit Korra's whole house with room to spare. It was, more accurately, a dining hall.

 

"Well, the Beifongs do."

 

Korra immediately recognizes the faux pas. "Sorry, I thought --"

 

"I do stay over quite often, but I live at the dormitory."

 

"Sorry, I just assumed." Korra puts down a bowl with a little too much force, not used to glass surfaces. She's still learning to navigate the maze of faces and roles she's been thrust into since a month ago. _Kuvira_ , the name of the older woman reverberates in her head. Her closeness to Suyin made Korra assume. But fosterage, like what the Water Tribe does with close friends and relatives, is a rarer phenomenon among those above the line.

 

"I'm actually the Head of Security, since you're so finicky about it." Kuvira tilts her head just a bit. "It _is_ pretty confusing. I haven't danced on a stage since the ah, career change, but since we're having the show outside of the Theater District, the City Council's pretty insistent that the police handle it, which left me free. I never thought I'd be able to lead again."

 

_So that's what Lin was doing when I saw her at Zaofu._

 

Korra sets the last bowl down. Across the three-sided table, Suyin's twins finish as well.

 

// 

 

Dinner's been a success so far. Suyin's far from stuffy, and she does have a lot to be proud of. Maybe there's a tinge of overweening pride at all the craziness Suyin's been able to experience in her life, but Korra doesn't fault her that, where her older, brattier self would have sulked or spat out snippy bullshit. Another point to the New Korra, she thinks. Her good mood's kind of helped, admittedly, by the food.

 

The boys are Korra's cue to see just how mannerless she can get; she's glad to be in a dinner table without having to worry about slurping and burping. She almost doesn't hear Lin's name over the noise. Lin. The Detective. Chief, now.

 

"Ah, you know Lin," Suyin mutters with an eyeroll. "She's fine as long as she doesn't talk to me. Opal tells me everything's going okay with the security set up. I'm just not sure, Kuvira's been my head of security for almost two years now. It doesn't feel the same."

 

"Your sister's personally guaranteed your safety," A Water Tribe woman says mildly from across the table.

 

"I know I should be glad, but I have to admit she's..."

 

"She can be... headstrong," Tenzin says.

 

"You mean difficult?" Korra interjects with a snort, her sarcasm making it clear whose side she's on. She knows that pregnant pause when Tenzin's trying to find the polite way for what he's really thinking. (She's starting to pick it up herself, and after trying it out, isn't sure she likes it.)

 

Then she realizes what she's said. Shit, and dinner was going so well.

 

"The Chief's not so bad," Korra says to cover up. She's already buried herself, what with Tenzin's neutrally murderous expression (something only a passive-aggressive master can accomplish.) "I don't really get what the whole thing is with the Chief, but y'gotta cut her some slack. She... hasn't had it easy."

 

To her surprise the whole table's gone silent. Oh fuck. Really?

 

"No, she hasn't," Suyin agrees. "Though I didn't know you knew her personally."

 

Korra looks into her empty bowl. Hand to the nape of her neck, she can feel the tendrils of her shorter hair, reminding her of why she cut her past off. "I used to give her grief," she says.

 

"Well," Tenzin says. "It's a give and take thing, life."

 

Sage bullshit, old Korra would say.

 

Sage bullshit, but true, new Korra would say.

 

//

_Korra is 22_

_Air Institute Dormitories_

_Later that evening_

It's raining, which means the bed is nice and cold. On any other day, Korra should be able to sleep like a rock. She thinks about dinner though, the tiny details like Suyin's family interactions, the closeness with her student-turned-security head.

_I didn't know you knew her personally._

 

Personally. Getting hauled in after a raid at sixteen, then getting into more trouble that Korra had to be dragged out of not six months after the first Ring was shut down -- she isn't sure there's a word in polite conversation that defines her relationship with the Detective (Chief, Korra corrects). Maybe they were temporary allies? The truth is, outside of Lin's iron bitchiness, her perpetual growl-and-grouch routine, Korra doesn't know her in that manner ordinary people say 'personally'.

 

She remembers their second meeting, after she got ambushed by a bunch of thugs. It was her and Skoochy, walking down an alleyway, on their way to the New Ring. She should have been with the rest of the fighters -- they'd made a pact to stick together -- but she thought at the time that she needed to prove something to herself. (New Korra winces at her stupidity.) She'd been stalked a few blocks before some thugs surrounded her and the street rat, and she hadn't noticed.

 

She fought -- of course she did -- twenty to one, and she still thought the odds were even. That kind of thinking makes her wince now, but it seemed pretty solid logic back then. She could say she put up a good fight, which sometimes is the wise way of looking at things. Sometimes it's just an idiot's way of brushing defeat, which was certainly the outcome. Someone knocked her out and dragged her to a warehouse; Skoochy slipped away during the fight. Korra didn't learn until much later that she was more valuable alive rather than dead as insurance and that alone kept her from biting the dust as early as the alleyway.

 

Long story short, (Korra never liked to dwell on the part she was knocked out) Detective Beifong bust her ass out. And so they had their first actual conversation in a clinic, off-the-record, at maybe one in the morning.

 

_//_

_Lin is 44, Korra is 16_

_A Clinic_

_Theater District_

_"You're one of Zolt's prizefighters, right?" Korra's blinks at the harshness of the lights.  Although she knows who her... helper(?) is, she's still getting accustomed to the harsh lights of the clinic they're at._

_"Yeah, so?" It's right when the words come out that she recalls she's not supposed to link directly to Lightning Bolt Zolt. Not on paper, anyway. "I mean, no, I don't think I got what you said there."_

_She hears a short bark of laughter, the most this cop can probably cough out._

_"Right."_

_Korra tries to sit up, but the sudden shooting pain in her bones hazes out her vision._

_"Don't."_

_This of course makes Korra try even more._

_"Fine, crack another goddamn rib."_

_Korra falls back into the cot, breathing heavily. She cycles through a whole set of curse words. She can at least swivel her head to see the Detective in her long coat._

_"Where am I?"_

_"Theater district."_

_"I... How'd I get here?"_

_"I was investigating a gang-related disturbance. Followed some mooks to a warehouse. Saw them haul your ass into a room. Got you out."_

_All Korra hears is: you're pathetic, and you'll never get anywhere. Couldn't she do_ anything _without Toza or Tahno?_

_"How long was I out?" Korra grits, angry at having to ask someone who isn't Toza for information._

_"Quite a while. I thought you'd come to with me dragging you all the way to the Theater district. Kya actually treated you while you were unconscious."_

_(It isn't until she's older -- much older -- that Korra wonders just how far Lin dragged her.)_

_"Who?"_

_"Doctor round these parts."_

_"Well, fuck you, I could have taken care of it."_

_Korra feels the detective sit on the side of her small cot. "Yes, you could have stayed in the warehouse, compromising whoever your sponsor is," -- here Lin rolls her eyes "-- and if you were really lucky, those thugs who ambushed you might have given you another chance to fight your way out of there. And then, of course you'd show them, with your battered face and cracked ribs. Totally an even match, just like when you dove headfirst."_

_"How would you know?"_

_"You're not that hard to read."_

_"Yeah, we're all just dumb fucks, huh."_

_There are too many things to think about: her failure, how the fight is probably over, how she'd probably end up in jail. The one thing she could lash out at is right next to her, with the same fuckwit attitude: we're all the fucking same to these guys._

_"There's only one person to blame for your being a dumb fuck, as you kids say, Korra," the Detective says, using her name as a personal touch. "I checked on your file. Your brothers are either working or in school. What's with the tough kid act?"_

_"Fuck if I know, since you've got us all figured out."_

_"Look, kid. You're not stupid. See through isn't the same as dumb. You don't want my advice, but it's not impossible to follow the law and get somewhere."_

_"Law? What law? You shut up! That ring was my job! It's legitimate! There are arenas all over the city for boxers."_

_"Then why didn't you apply for a legal one?"_

_"They wouldn't take me, okay! Toza gave me a chance. Zolt gave me a chance. And they never asked me to pay upfront for any shitty fees, either. Not like other gyms."_

_"Maybe they didn't ask for it upfront but they never told you what you were actually worth, either."_

_"At least I was worth something. And it was a fixed fee, with bonuses for performances."_

_The door opens, with Korra out of breath, having shouted at Lin as best as she could follow the woman's puttering around the room. The other woman is Water Tribe, much to her surprise, a doctor but with the tribe's armband._

_"Really, Lin? You're stressing the patient. She's got a cracked rib, don't make my job harder."_

_Korra likes this new person immediately. Lin throws her hands in the air and leaves. Korra takes that as a win, but it's too much effort to smack her fist against her palm, her usual victory stance._

 

//

 

The number of things she fucked up in one night were pretty staggering. While she was out cold, the Detective had radioed the police about a possible location for the New Ring. When the police arrived at the secret arena, they came in just in time to witness a three-way fight that ended with Lightning Bolt Zolt's capture and hospitalization. Some new Triad set up shop and was looking to make a splash, and splash they did, by ambushing a few more trusted prizefighters and replacing the second-tier fighters with their people. That set up allowed them to attack from within and without.

 

Detecitve Beifong wasn't there. She was with Korra the whole fucking time, waiting for her to wake up.

 

And all Korra thought about back then was:

 

_Fuck, it hurts._

_Fuck that Detective._

_And fuck, Zolt hates it when I'm late._

 

She didn't give a second thought to how she got to the clinic after being ambushed, or how Lin had found her in the first place and dragged her as far as the Theater District. She didn't give a second thought to the healer, either. She never said thank you, even though she bumped into Lin a few more times after that. Their conversations after that night were always teetering on the brink of Korra saying something stupid, or blaming the older lady. Lin for her part was wrapped around a long coat, unyielding. If anyone sucked (and sucks still) at knowing anyone personally, it'd be Chief Lin Beifong. They talked anyway, when their paths crossed.

 

In the end, Detective Beifong never had Korra called in for any police business with Zolt. (Korra of the present suspects this is because Beifong was investigating something without permission, something she's never found out about.) Korra did, however, get called in about with Toza. She stuck by the guy and said she never heard anything about Triad business from him. He's still around somewhere, working in some gym. She didn't think much of how she'd gotten away, until she was a little older, after watching some people get over the Ring, while others withered without it.

 

_Well, here's your chance! It's a month to the presentation, you could at least try to talk to her, yeah? Properly, this time._

 

 

//

_Korra is 22, Lin is 50_

_Zaofu School of Dance_

_Two weeks later_

 

"Hey," Korra says, catching the Chief after one of her meetings with Opal. She's sitting outside the Zaofu School. Maybe she's been waiting thirty minutes. Maybe she's been waiting a few years. Maybe she actually has the guts to talk to Lin properly.

 

In the light of day, Korra thinks, _Man, she's got all that grey hair._

"Korra," the Chief acknowledges, not breaking her stride towards the parking lot. The footfalls are crisp and light. Beifong has a way of being as quiet or as loud as she has to be, packing a thousand words in efficient mannerisms.

 

Korra should be expecting the brush off, but most normal people stop when someone's acknowledged them. "I was wondering... you wanna get something to eat?"

 

"Why were you waiting for me?"

 

_I'm as see-through as before._

 

"I was going to get your number, but I'm not close to Opal."

 

"So since you couldn't do that you just assumed I'd make time to talk to you if you waited."

 

At a loss for words, Korra's eyes dart back and forth the Chief's car and the lady herself. That they've arrived so fast should surprise Korra, but she's too busy sinking in a puddle of her own making.

 

"I'm sorry," Korra says. _This is dumb, dumb, dumb. You're a dumb kid, she's a fucking Chief, she'll be Mako's boss one day._

 

"I never said it," Korra says in a rush, before Lin Beifong can get away. "I never said thanks when you got me out of the warehouse when I was a kid. I never said thanks that you didn't make me testify against Zolt." She looks at Lin's boots, miserable about the whole plan. _What whole plan?_

 

"You're welcome," the older woman says shortly, having unlocked her door (manually, with a key). The car whirrs to life. Korra takes her hand out of the top of the car, wanting so badly to see the inside, but she's unable to, anyway. The windows are covered up. All she's seen of the Chief are mostly long coat and boots. What a fucking joke.

 

The pavement's laughing at her, or maybe the wind. Lin drives off. Was it only five minutes ago that they walked from the School's entrance to here? _Properly, now_ , she'd told herself. And now, she squats on the parking lot, sighing in defeat.

 

Her old life was so much simpler, she thinks. Old Korra would shout. A lot. Make the Detective listen. _Now see here_ , she can hear herself yelling. New Korra has no idea how to go about this, but is starting to get the feeling Lin's file shouldn't go under 'Ordinary people'.

 

_Is it so strange that I want to talk to you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably focus on the upcoming dance presentation. Hope you guys enjoy the slow burn. I can guarantee Korra going to Lin's apartment, though I can't tell just how many chapters apart it'll be. Can't vouch Lin will enjoy the company.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and comments are greatly appreciated. Please feel free to correct any typos.


	3. Counting that as a win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kya and Lin discuss Korra, and a flashback to Korra's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, that last episode with all the Beifongs was just... punching me in the feels.  
> Updated Dec 6 for some minor errors after a quick re-read.

_Lin is 50, Kya is 54_

_Kya's Apartment_

_Theater District_

 

When she has time, Lin drinks with Kya. It's usually at Kya's apartment, because there's nothing at Lin's. And drinking is a very loose term, because Lin doesn't touch hard liquor, or soft liquor, or anything vaguely alcoholic. Kya meanwhile is mixing booze left and right. Lin watches her friend's gaze flit lovingly over Kavalan, Maker's Mark, Siok Tong, Macallan -- and there Lin gives up reading the labels on the bottles that proudly line Kya's bar table.

 What she does know is that Kya doesn't discriminate. Rare or common, expensive or cheap, rotgut bullshit or exquisite: Kya loves 'em all. She drinks like an amateur (mixing drinks), she drinks like a lady. Here at her own home it doesn't matter, she just likes the burn.

The thing is, she drinks so much and so frequently it's almost impossible for her to get drunk. Lin has to put up with Tipsy Kya, who veers off from one topic to the next, the type of drinker that will contradict what she just said five minutes ago.

"What a celebration," Lin murmurs. Kya insists on the mood lights, jokingly makes a frame with her fingers, as though seeing Lin from a viewfinder.

"And here we have the jaded detective in her natural habitat," Kya says with a grin. "The fog around the city wraps around her mind, memories of her muddled past reflected on the water pooling round the..."

"This purple prose is why you'll never be a writer."

"I'm fine with pretending. I don't have the time to be famous."

"I can only take Drinking Kya or Talking Kya. Stick to one."

"At least you have a choice. Fair or foul, I only have Grumpy Lin."

But Kya eases up on the jibes and stares at the yellow light reflecting off the glass. Lin's content with this, the silence between them. Her kiddy grape juice, Kya's girly pink tequila, drinking like the weight of it all won't crush them yet.

"How was your day, Chief?"

Lin stares into the reflection of Kya's apartment, seen in the glass of a photo behind the healer.  "Had a meeting at Zaofu. The last one before we meet in the venue itself. Didn't kill my sister."

"I'm counting that as a win," Kya says.

"Don't talk like a doc around me, please."

"I'm not! What gives you that impression?"

"I'm required to go through psych checkups, you know. The therapist --" Lin doesn't bother to hide her verbal eyeroll with the word ''-- likes to say that when she thinks I'm showing progress."

"You! Showing progress! That's impossible. You're as stuck in the past as a rock."

"Thanks."

"I don't even think you got over Tenzin."

"Thanks for the support," Lin mutters again.

Kya's raises an eyebrow. "Why aren't you punching me yet?"

"Because you're tipsy. I'd arrest you though."

"If you were younger."

"If I were younger," Lin agrees. She's gone past the petty abuses of power. One point over her mom.

 _I'm counting that as a win_. Does she hear it in her mother's voice, or the therapist's?

She hates it when someone says that sentence, because then it's stuck in her head for the rest of the day.

"So, okay, no beating the sister up. Niece is sweet tempered as always. Anything fun happen?"

Lin could say that the next meeting is on-site, during the Zaofu contingent's ocular (the police have already conducted one previously.) Or she could talk about her failure for the day, that is, her unnecessary curtness at some kid saying thanks to her.

Some kid.

Like she could think of that hot-headed ex-streetfighter as _some kid_.

 _I'm counting your honesty as a win_ , the therapist in her head says, and it's heating the back of Lin's head up in anger.

"Judging from that angry, constipated look, you did something you're ashamed of."

"I was kinda curt with some kid."

"Snapped at an officer?"

Lin sighs.

"You remember that kid from the Water Tribe six years ago?"

"The first of many 2 AM calls from the esteemed Detective, of course I remember. Can't recall her name though."

"Korra." The therapist in Lin's head is clapping, but Lin feels like she's just pulled at a tooth. There isn't any hesitation in her mention of the name though. It's not the Beifong style to hesitate, even when they're hesitating.

Kya doesn't say anything, so Lin has to pick up the story. "I bumped into her again recently. She got herself out of that crowd. She's dancing at Zaofu." One of the most exclusive schools in the entire city.

"How'd that happen?"

"Ask your brother."

"Bumi?" And this time Kya has a wry smile on her face. Lin doesn't reply to that subtle dig at the other, unspoken wise man.

"That's really the whole story. She said thanks, I said you're welcome."

"You mean you said _you're welcome_ but really it came out as _fuck off_?"

Lin doesn't reply, because she knows Kya is thinking. "It bothers you that much, huh."

She knows this part of an interrogation. It's called reflecting.

She pauses to think. If she can't be honest with Kya, she can't be honest with anyone. As for being honest with herself, that's a lifelong impossibility.

"I'm sorry for saying that you've never shown progress."

She hates it when Kya drops the lightness. Maudlin and washed out is Lin's thing, not Kya's. "Just drink more, please."

Kya pours herself a whisky sour, looking drunk and sheepish.

"Maybe you could apologize, you know. It's what normal people do."

"Kid wants to talk."

"Is the great Chief Lin afraid of a little heart-to-heart? Kid can't be the only clingy juvenile you've kicked out of that side of the road."

No indeed. There'd been some kids they picked up, sometimes pickpockets, sometimes more involved jobs (sometimes they were borderline soldiers in the gang wars). Most of them started out hating the police (which Lin could live with). Some kids never cared to do things the legal way, or would never trust the system. Sometimes someone would come back to try to shoot her. So far she's been pretty lucky.

All that's fine, really.

What freaked her out were the kids who'd grown up and occasionally dropped by to say _thanks for getting us out of there._ She doesn't have anything to say to anyone. How could you say _you're welcome_ and mean it when no one should have been born in those situations to begin with? _Thanks for affording me the basic right everyone else is afforded with._ That's like saying thank you for the air. Lin wishes she could drink, but she's sworn off the stuff, so she won't.

"I have no idea if I'll be bumping into her again," Lin says. "Like that, I mean."

"Right," Kya mutters. "I'm Chief Beifong, and I'm afraid of making friends." Kya finishes her drink and shakes her head.

 _Just try,_ Lin thinks to herself.

 

//

 

  _Korra is 16, Tahno is 18_

_The Warehouse & Comet_

_Semi-finals celebration party_

 

 

Korra bobs her head to the pulsating bass. She loves the grounding thrum. Feet on the floor, head in the air, neon backlights on racks of booze, silhouettes dancing to the music.

This is what being a winner feels like, damn how corny that sounds in her head.

 _Love is all I got_ , the speakers chorus.

It's all that drives Korra too. The will to fight. She'd have gone home a long time ago if she didn't feel so strongly about training. In a strange way, the Ring was her most truthful love. You could always see a punch coming at you in the Ring. There are no walls for anyone to hide.

Sitting next to her, Tahno's hand is wandering all over some girl's. Korra's got some attention herself, boys and girls asking her how she is after the fight, a few propositions. Korra's too busy drowning herself in the music to really pay them any attention. The darkness of the bar makes it so easy to focus on the synthesized sounds. The buzz from the drinks doesn't hurt either.

Next to her, a girl asks: "You ever fall in love?"

Korra remembers that before the song started, she was talking to this pretty girl next to her. She'd introduced herself earlier, this uptown girl, but Korra didn't bother to remember. She'd tuned the girl out for too long.

"No," Korra says, the win making her cocky.

"Wanna try tonight?" This is said with the lady's mouth hot against her ear.

Korra's seen a lot of prizefighters accept the perks of being what they are. What they don't know though, is that power isn't just getting everything handed to you thanks to your strength.

Korra smirks and says "No, I don't think so."

She has to admit, she likes it. Likes watching girls scowl, boys huff, their egos deflated. Winning is having a choice, the pick of the crop. But Tahno's horny and stupid; he doesn't see that.

And Korra, Korra's just happy to say _no_. Happy to be able to feel the plush material she's resting against after a win, happy to choose what she drinks, happy to tap her feet to the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Korra, has anyone ever told you what a jerk you used to be?
> 
> All of the drinks Lin noted were Kya's hard liquor, and they are all actual drinks. The 'pink tequila' is Tequila Rose. Korra is listening to a song called, aptly enough, "Love is All That I Got." I have no idea what Kya's actual age is, if anyone has any corrections, feel free to tell me.
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated. As usual, this is unedited and hot off the press, so if there are any corrections, feel free to poke me.


	4. I blame it on the downers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin stops an assassination attempt during the annual Zaofu dance performance. Suyin wants to reach out, but her older sister would rather not. Korra steps in as an envoy, bringing some dinner from Suyin's celebratory party to Lin. The two of them hang out at Lin's apartment.

_Present Day_

_An Ambulance At the Edge of Guru Pathik Park_

_Lin Beifong_

 

"You okay, chief?"

It's Zharen's voice.  He looks at her bandage with a critical eye, looking for anything to adjust.

"It's fine, Zhar. How's the performance?"

" Going perfectly. Ms. Beifong is really adamant about seeing you, though." He looks at her, his expression asking her to please let her niece in.

Her head throbs dully, but not as bad as it did before. She nods, and a few minutes later Opal is at her side, sitting in the cramped ambulance. Zharen has left, giving the two some privacy.

"Spirits, kid," Lin mutters. "It was just a blow to the head."

"Aunt Lin, please go to the hospital," Opal urges. "Let Lieutenant Zharen handle this. I'll go with you."

"I'll go. Stay with your mother." Fuck. Suyin. Hearing her sister's voice would probably give her a headache. Lin quickly amends her earlier statement. "I'll go if you swear to me you'll keep this from your mother."

"Keep an assassination attempt from her? There'll be reporters at the dinner party later tonight from the way things are going!"

"Well, keep it away from her as long as you can." Lin stares at Opal. "I'd rather Suyin enjoy her performance." _And I'd rather not see her at all, thank you._

Opal shakes her head. "Aunt Lin, please. You're... " she can't say _you're being silly,_ not when her Aunt is the Chief of Police.

Lin eases back into her chair. This is why family and work don't mix. "I don't want Suyin barging in when I'm at the hospital." Strangely enough, Lin hopes Opal understands. The spotlight will be on Suyin, if ever, something Lin hates to be a part of, or either way her younger sister would stress her out. Before Opal has a chance to say anything, another officer shows up, and Lin must speak with him, issuing orders before she finally goes to the hospital.

 

_The hospital_

The first thing Lin does, after everyone is done fussing with her and taking her blood or whatever, is to write the report. As always, the commentary in her head bears no resemblance to what she's writing. Where she writes the date and event, she thinks: _Suyin's yearly preening ritual._ The show runs for a month, a set of interpretative dancing and modern interpretations of folk dances, strung together with some narration or story or however the artsy-fartsies call 'em. The whole thing reeks of artifice to Lin, but that's the pain lashing out, she knows, giving her her bitter, ill-willed humor. _Not funny,_ she thinks to herself. Not fair to her sister, not funny, and not right. She touches her forehead, wishing the drugs would hurry up and take effect.

  _I was careless,_ she thinks, as she writes about doing a second perimeter sweep after her officers finished the first. She describes the park, and then in the heart of it, the open amphitheater. Suyin always knew how to pick a venue. She notes down the distance between the park and the first office block. She'd decided that she'd check the surrounding blocks as well, even after they were cleared, admittedly because it kept her busy. She'd dragged Zharen and Saikhan along with her as backup.

She wasn't expecting the Beifong intuition (as the newspapers call it) to kick in when she reached an empty office building. She went in with Zharen and Saikhan, finding a room in the upper floors with a sniper rifle. Lin spends a whole paragraph writing down its model, the range, how they'd deduced there was a spotter inside the park, how they'd radioed for the police inside the venue to find the spotter and take him down as quietly as they could. They had in fact found the spotter as  the intermission was about to end, arresting him with the least amount of fuss.

She doesn't linger over the details of finding the sniper and the short chase and firefight. He'd ran. They gave chase. He'd had a cache of guns elsewhere. He'd picked up a sidearm -- Lin didn't have time to see the model, another report would mention it -- he'd shot at them both, until his bullets had run out. And then there was more chasing, until they lost him, split up to find him, and were taken by surprise with a sneak attack amongst long-abandoned office cubicles. It ended up as a fight between him -- armed with a short staff -- and her.

She finishes the rest of the report with lists of details and notes for which leads to investigate. By the time she's finished, she's rested enough to put up a fight when the doctor suggests she stays over. _Absolutely not,_ she says, and the healer, used to this kind of attitude, bargains it down to not working while at home.

 

 

 

_Annual Zaofu Dance Performance (Live at Guru Pathik Park)_

_Korra_

 

Korra high-fives Kai on their way out, lifting props to be loaded to trucks. Kai's on his way back in to help move more equipment; most everyone is helping out except for the leads who have a short meeting over some arrest made earlier during the show. She's giddy, lightheaded even. Maybe it's because Tenzin's not around, and she _actually did something right,_ but something about today brings back the feeling of winning, except this time she isn't beating anyone to a pulp.

She feels Old Korra normal. Old Korra good, without the New Korra weight. Maybe she even does a few cartwheels on the carpet, a few spins. Does a little parkour, jumping off the staircases and landing at the bottom of stairwells.

After loading the last prop into the truck, Korra sneaks out towards the function room backstage, hoping that she can listen in on the security debriefing or whatever. Rumor has it someone tried to sneak in and maybe rob something.

When she rounds the corner leading to the meeting room, she sees everyone filing out -- _damn,_ she thinks, _too late._ She hides behind a curtain (thankful that this place is full of drapes and carpet).

"Kuvira," she hears Opal call out.

"Yes?"

It's silent for a few moments, as though Opal is making sure everyone's left.

"Chief Lin's already left," Opal mumbles.

"What? Wasn't she supposed to stay until the party? Su will be... disappointed."

Korra closes her eyes to keep from being tempted to peek out. Now would be a horrible time to be found.

"Well," Opal says, and Korra can hear the stutter in her voice. "About the uh, earlier arrest. The reason why the police haven't yet released any details is because he's a spotter, actually. You know..."

"For a sniper?"

"They found the guy!" Opal says hastily, before Kuvira can jump to any conclusions. "They found the sniper first actually. Aunt Lin did, anyway. She's uh, at the hospital at the moment. No, no, nothing bad happened," Opal says hastily, probably reacting to the look in Kuvira's face. "Well. She uh, got into a fight with the sniper, but she's okay."

"Is that what she _told_ you to say?"

Opal sighs. "I think she's okay," she says. "I mean, I know Aunt Lin. She's a lot like Grandma. But they got to the sniper before anyone was seriously hurt. She had a few bruises on her face and she went to the hospital... it's just... she doesn't want mom to know."

"Why not?"

Korra imagines Opal giving Kuvira _that_ look: it's pretty obvious the two sisters don't get along.

"She... doesn't want the attention, I guess. Or the awkwardness. I just wish... they'd talk, you know?"

"Yes but," and this time Kuvira exhales, so annoyed that even Korra can hear it, "someone will have to tell Suyin what is up if the reporters arrive at tonight's dinner, and Chief Beifong's support would have been..." Kuvira drifts off. _Kuvira's protective,_ Korra realizes. Protective of her mentor. She wants Lin to be there to support her sister, and Lin just wants to stay away and deal with whatever bruises she has on her own. It _would_ be nice, if the both of them could support each other, Korra realizes. And then, with a sudden jolt, she understands, suddenly, that she's walked into a very personal family problem, something that she shouldn't hear, and now her intrusion feels obscene.

"Aunt Lin is hurt," Opal fires back. "I want them to talk too, but neither of them are at the right place for it, kay?"

"I don't mean to judge the Chief," Kuvira says, trying to placate Opal. "I'm sorry. Okay. What do we do now?"

"Well, we have to tell Mom that Aunt Lin's not around. Do you think security can hold off the reporters? It's a private function, after all."

"If we can, we will. The police though --"

"Aunt Lin's ordered the investigation to continue tomorrow," Opal mutters. "On our side, that is. They've got their hands busy on the office building that housed the sniper right now. The convoy will avoid that part of town when we return to the estate. But security will be tight. Really tight. Lieutenant Saikhan will be riding with us."

For a moment, Korra doesn't get it, until all the pieces fall into place. The police are a finite resource. Lin could mar her sister's evening with investigations on the venue, on interrogating every dancer and every guard and every player in the scene. Instead, she's giving her sister one evening to play the socialite, the matriarch, before flooding Suyin with paperwork and permits to sign, while the police investigate the bigger leads. Someone's probably interrogating the spotter right now, or the sniper, assuming he isn't knocked out in some hospital.

Korra realizes that she's missed out on the last few things Opal and Kuvira are talking about.

"Are you very sure you'd rather not tell Suyin about her sister? I don't think we should keep it from her if she asks,"

"Neither do I. But Aunt Lin," Opal pauses as she speaks, trying to sort out her thoughts, "really does not want mom barging in on her apartment. Which... knowing mom, she probably will. What -- what do you think I should do?"

"You're underestimating yourself, Opal. You're her daughter," Kuvira murmurs, "she'll listen to you if you tell her now's not a good time for the Chief."

 _This_ , Korra thinks, _is one messy family._

 

_Beifong Compound_

The Beifong estate doesn't get any smaller the second time Korra arrives. There are easily more than a hundred guests, mingling with the dancers, the lights people, the techs. The students from Zaofu are mostly milling about outside, sitting around the garden, or play-sparring. There's music, live music, at one corner of the garden, and lanterns hang from branches or sit, casting a warm glow. The whole thing looks like a fairytale scene, or the hour of midnight where magic things happen.

Korra throws a few play-punches with Kai, pretending to be as elated as the others at having finished one performance. She's not supposed to know anything, but during the whole ride all she could think about was Lin, probably alone at her apartment, probably writing more reports or on the phone when she should be resting.

Kai somersaults at the garden lawn as Wing and Wei bring a bucket of beer for everyone. After going through the motions: laughing, telling stories of last-minute mishaps, congratulating this dancer for that solo -- Korra starts to walk around inside, looking for Opal and Kuvira. She finds them in one of the quieter halls, along with Suyin. There are some people around, engaged in their own conversation: the stage manager, she recalls, and Baatar Jr., in charge of the lights and sounds. Thankfully the food table in this hall is close to the door, and Korra can easily look like she was just hunting for a snack.

"Korra?" Ack. So much for being sneaky.

"I was walking around," Korra defends herself, right away. "And... I was hungry."

"It's fine," Suyin says with a smile. "We were just talking about your favorite cop, actually."

"Mom," Opal says. "Actually, about Aunt Lin not being around..."

"What?"

"There was an assassination attempt earlier this afternoon, and she dealt with it. She's recovering at home," Kuvira says. Opal shoots her a look, which Kuvira replies with a _you-were-beating-around-the-bush_ expression.

Suyin's mouth opens and closes.

"Why didn't the police tell me?"

"We heard about it after the play," Kuvira continues. "And Chief Beifong requested not to tell you. Which neither Opal nor I agreed with. So, here we are."

Korra realizes, at this point, that she should probably excuse herself. But then she'd be interrupting, and nobody seems to remember that she's there, anyway.

"Was she injured?"

"She was in a fight," Opal says tersely. "I saw her. She's... fine, but she did get a blow to the head. Saikhan reported that she's back at home and resting and promised to keep them updated."

"Where _is_ Lieutenant Saikhan, anyway?" Suyin's face is impassive, but Korra it would take a wall of lead to miss on the bubbling rage.

"He's on patrol outside. But mom," Opal says, as Suyin makes for the door, "he was following orders."

"Lin's a fool," Suyin grounds out. "I should go see her." Baatar Jr., and the stage manager both turn to her, startled by the vehemence in her voice.

"Mom... I don't think either of you are in a good place to see each other," Opal says gently.

Suyin's hold turns white against the doorknob. "She never lets anyone in, damn her."

Korra's eyes flicker from Opal to Suyin before she realizes that Kuvira's staring at her with a level gaze. "Korra?"

"Yes?" Korra is acutely aware of what a fish out of water she is, stepping into a family situation.

"Would you mind doing us a favor?"

"Um, no. I mean, I'd love to help."

"Maybe you could check on Chief Beifong for us? And bring her some dinner?" Kuvira nods her head in Suyin's direction. "Korra can tell us how she's doing without her getting angry."

"I'd hate to drag anyone else into this mess," Suyin mutters.

"I'm already in this mess," Korra says, without thinking. "I mean, I want to help." _Ugh, really?_ "I mean, I'm worried about her too."

_Really, Korra?_

Suyin appears to be thinking it over. "Opal? Do we still have Five-Flavor Soup?"

"Lots of it," Opal says, already dashing off to the kitchens.

"Do you know how to get to her apartment?" Kuvira asks.

"Uh, no? But Tenzin might know where she lives."

"Guess we've got a plan then."

 

 

 

Korra doesn't mention that her bike is literally a bike, not a motorcycle. She doesn't want anyone to give her a lift, or for someone to keep fussing over her. The very moment Opal hands her a bundle wrapped in cloth, she's off, without saying goodbye to her fellow dancers. Having bicycled around the city streets, she knows where she's going, weaving in and out of traffic, out of the roads and onto sidewalks, cutting through parks and alleyways not meant for vehicles.

When she does arrive at Lin's apartment, she jumps off her bicycle and runs inside. The building isn't so high up, so she forgoes waiting for the elevator and runs upstairs until she reaches four-oh-two. Lin's apartment.

She knocks while catching her breath. Then she realizes she should use the buzzer, but just as she presses it, the door swings open. Korra winces at the sound of the doorbell.

"Hi," she says weakly.

Lin looks down at her in her pajamas.

"Um. Delivery?" Korra wonders if she should bow, if she's doing this right, but forgets to bow and the moment passes.

Lin looks at the bundle she holds out. "It's Five-Flavor Soup," Korra says. "From the party."

Lin sighs. "Who blabbed?"

"Nobody blabbed!" Korra says hastily. "I just overheard Opal talking about it and..."

"And you're a terrible liar."

"Ok, both of them blabbed. To Suyin."

"They sent you as a spy, huh."

"We were worried."

"There's nothing to worry about," Lin growls, still wearing a bandage around her head. But she takes the food anyway -- _Victory!_ Korra thinks -- then nods her head to the side.

"Oh." Korra says. "I mean, that's all. We just wanted to check on you. And give you that soup. And now you have it." She knows what she should say next. _I should go_ , she should say. Mission accomplished, text Suyin, everything's fine, return to party. "And I was told I shouldn't let you alone and I should stay." For some reason, she can't school her voice properly. Modulate it. Calm herself. She should, but she can't.

Lin's eyebrows rise. "Ok, no, that was a lie. I mean, I want to stay. Let me in." _Shit,_ could she get any more barbaric? "Please," Korra adds.

For a second Lin just looks at her. Then, to her surprise, Lin moves away from the door. "Come on in, then."

Korra doesn't have much time to dwell on her mad race to Lin's apartment. Thankfully Lin doesn't know about it, so she can keep the embarrassment all to herself. When Lin brews her a cup of tea and adds ice, Korra drinks the whole thing up in one gulp.

"Thanks," she says, wiping her mouth with her hand.

To her surprise, Lin throws her a towel from the bathroom. "You're sweating," Lin mutters.

"Um, yeah. I kinda hurried here, because... I didn't want the soup to get cold."

Lin brews another pot of tea and the two of them sit down on her tiny dining table. She splits the soup in two bowls, offering one to Korra. They eat in silence. Korra doesn't realize just how tired she is until she starts drinking the soup, settling down nicely in Lin's apartment.

The place isn't big, she realizes. Nothing at all like Suyin's estate. There are no paintings anywhere. Or sculptures. Or even any pictures. There are some closets, though. And piles of paperwork on the work desk. There are two couches with a single coffee table between them, no television, but there is a gramophone, and several speakers on the upper corners of the living room. There are no partitions between the living room and the kitchen.

"So," Korra mumbles, "you're doing a lot better than I thought. We, I mean. Better than we thought."

Lin shrugs. "I'm fine. Everyone likes to make things worse than they are." In the soft light, Korra can't appraise the shadows on Lin's face. She can't tell if Lin's bluffing, or if maybe she won the fight mostly unscathed. The Chief's never been easy to read.

"But it was an assassination attempt."

"It's under control," Lin replies. "But the police will be guarding the Beifong estate while the investigation is underway."

Korra restrains herself from interrupting. _Let her talk._ "The rifle the sniper used was a very recent model. And the timing -- he had an almost clear shot from more than a kilometer away." Lin looks up at her. "But let's not talk about work."

"I don't mind." Finally, Korra manages to sound _proper_.

"Let's not."

"Well, we don't have to talk." They both suck at talking anyway, Korra thinks.

They slurp on their soup for a bit more before Lin speaks again. "Actually, I owe you an apology. For being so curt with you before."

Korra catches herself before she can blubber. She looks up to Lin, wordlessly, then looks down into the soup. "S'fine," Korra says. She wonders what Lin is thinking.

"It's my job," Lin says, after a while. "There's nothing to thank me for. You don't have to feel guilty about it. I'm just glad you're going to school."

The words are like an alien language, coming from Lin. The older woman looks to her again, as though trying to decide whether to speak more or to shut up. She shuts up, of course. Korra doesn't know what to say.

 _It's my job. I'm just glad you're going to school._ Korra could move the conversation in that direction, keep it as light and as normal as a conversation can get between the two of them, but it feels like a lie to talk about ordinary things, at least right now, between them. She wants to ask, again, _are you really okay?_ because all of Lin radiates tension, tension borne of pain, but Lin finishes dinner, instructs her to scoot over to the couch, and the moment passes.

The older woman opens the doors to the balcony, and a breeze wafts by, as do the sounds of the city beneath them. Korra leans into the couch, sinking into it. Lin knows how to pick furniture, she thinks. She dashes off a quick text to Opal and Kuvira: _Chief's fine._ She thinks to add: _Chief's her usual grumpy self,_ but wonders if they'll understand, so she leaves it at _fine_ and sends it off.Behind her, Lin dumps the dishes into a dishwasher and joins the younger girl on the other couch, after tossing a blanket to Korra.

"You're nice tonight," Korra says, having regained her ability to talk for the moment.

"I blame it on the downers."

 The silence between them deepens. Korra wishes she could do _something_ more than just stay here, but she knows Lin hates feeling helpless so she lets the older woman do whatever she must, putter around if she likes. It's her home, and Korra's been allowed the rare favor of seeing Lin. She mustn't blow it, Korra thinks solemnly.

"You don't have to keep me company, you know."

"I want to," Korra says with her eyes closed.

"I don't get that weird guilt complex you have." Guilt complex? She doesn't have a fucking guilt complex.

"I want to," Korra repeats. "Can't someone just want to hang out with you? And besides, isn't this technically the doctor's orders? Someone's _supposed_ to monitor you. What if that concussion has some side-effect after all and you can't call Lieutenant Saikhan?" Korra's never been prouder of her attention to shitty medical shows, but in the next moment she wonders if she's pissed the patient off.

Weirdly enough, Lin doesn't snap. It _is_ the downers, Korra thinks. "Fine. You look like crap, though. Go sleep already."

"I'm not that tired," Korra says, though her eyes are closed and her body is content to sink into Lin's couch.

"You're half asleep and full from all the soup. Get up before I have to drag you to the bed."

"It's your room, though," Korra mutters.

"So? It's my house, and I'm already settled here."

"Well why can't I sleep on _this_ couch?"

"Because your snoring will keep me awake. Get moving. First door on the left. Bathroom's the second. Spare clothes in the closet over there."

Korra grumbles, but this is Lin's house. Walking's a drag -- the fullness of her belly and ache of her muscles hit her as she gets up -- but she manages to amble to the room Lin's directed to. She flops on the bed, drifting off to sleep much sooner than she expects. Maybe it's because all is right with the world: a performance under her belt, and she's finally patching things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to y'all :)


	5. The ghost that lived upstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra and Lin listen to music, Suyin shows up in the morning (with a smirk on her face after finding out that Korra stayed the night).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely Nina for the beta!

Korra wakes up after giving Lin maybe three hours of peace. Lin can hear Korra trying to open the door of Lin's room as quiet as she can, even though the kid's down the hall and Lin's lying on the sofa. Korra's noisy as hell, even as she tries to be sneaky. And to be fair, Lin's always had good ears, though it isn't just that. It's the Beifong talent for sensing things, for feeling the ground beneath their feet, the low rumblings of the earth, the tread of the city. The same talent Lin spends on listening to music, trying to draw out every last sound from the instruments that play. It's the one thing that keeps her mind off the pain in her torso, her cheek, and her head. She isn't in the mood for a round two with Tenzin's student. She barely passed the first round with an acceptable amount of civility.

Lin picks up the remote and turns off the music. This makes Korra's footfalls that much louder. She squeaks on the concrete floor. Lin can imagine the wince on her face.

"Hey," Korra says sheepishly, as Lin turns to face her.

"I could hear you the minute you stepped out the door."

"What, are you a wolfbat or something?"

Lin sighs. She turns away, looking into the solid wall that constitutes the view of her apartment.

She hears Korra puttering around the living room and kitchen, doesn't pay the kid any mind. She's probably getting herself something to drink. Lin gets up -- no point trying to get any peace -- and slides open the door to the balcony.

"Man," Korra says, as she steps out to join Lin. "You weren't kidding when you said you had no hard stuff. Or even beer. I thought it was a rule that every detective was a miserable guy in the rain, bitching over a past they would never have been able to fix."

"I'm not a guy," Lin says.

Korra hands her some tea. Lin snorts.

"Why thank you for sharing with me my own tea."

"I'm a shitty guest, heh."

There isn't much to distract her from the pain, now that the music's gone. She doesn't want this, doesn't want to share the apartment with anyone, to see the difference between a person filling this place up, versus how it really is in the light of day.

"You're totally pissed that I'm here, aren't you?" _Here,_ that is, awake, and invading Lin's space.

Lin doesn't answer right away.

"I'll go back to the room."

"If you promise to shut up, I'll put on the music again and you can listen." Lin tilts her head slightly to the right, where two chairs sit with a table between them.

Lin has no idea what she's doing. Kya's in her head, clapping. _I'm counting that as a win_ , she's saying. Damn it, this is why Lin doesn't deal with people.

Korra nods like a little kid, excited to hang out with adults. Where's the old Korra when you need to give the new one a punch?

"So you do have guests over," Korra says as she takes a seat.

Lin considers lying. She could have also kicked Korra out of the damn apartment before Korra got a good enough look to start picking up clues.

Lin decides that if she can't lie, she can at least pretend she didn't hear. She goes back inside. Korra keeps expecting something out of someone whose title once started with Detective. So Lin opens a cabinet and rifles through some jazz, some pop from her time. The words sit sadly in her head. _Her time._ Her time's up, she knows. She's living in an apartment that may as well be a coffin. Only the music protests. Only the music's alive.

She opts for the gramophone. The record she's playing has a few scratches, but she rather likes them with her music.

The record starts with the piano. She fiddles around with the volume before joining Korra outside. True to their agreement, Korra doesn't say a word until the record finishes.

"Awesome turntable y'got there," Korra says, having watched Lin set it up from the window. Lin wishes for a flash that the blinds were down. _That would be petty,_ she tells herself.

"I said something stupid again," Korra mutters.

"Mm?"

"You've got that _kids-these-days_ look. Tenzin's got it too." Korra deepens her voice on the _kids-these-days_ , complete with the disapproving frown. She finishes with a smile, saying no harm.

"It's technically a turntable," Lin allows. "I'm just old-fashioned."

"Fill the dumb kid in then."

"I never said you were dumb," Lin says. What a change, to hear Korra say the same words as a jest rather than in anger. In a way it's Korra's armor too, to own the words before they're flung at her. They hurt less that way, Lin knows.

"Tenzin would say ignorant, heh."

"Is hestill that stuffy?"

"Yeah, he says some annoying things sometimes, but he's my sifu, y'know. I owe him a lot too."

To Lin's surprise there's a tinge of respect there.

She finally answers the question: "It's my mother's old gramophone. I sort of picked it out when I was a kid and it was mine after. Then I retrieved it from our old house and the horn had fallen off so I gutted it out and had it converted into a record player. Kept the outside, changed the inside. It's all wires and a receiver in the base."

Of course, Korra wouldn't know what a receiver is. It doesn't keep her from looking at the stack she'd collectively called a turntable. "Can I take a look later?"

"You can change the record too. Get the smaller ones, they play longer music."

They finish the second song.

Before Korra stands to change the record, she asks, "You sure I won't do something stupid and break that thing? What's that other one with all the knobs sitting below your uh, gramophone?"

"You won't break it. Old things tend to be built better," Lin says, amused. "That metal square thing below is a component. I have two music players, the gramophone and a cheap Earth Kingdom knockoff of some large brand. The knockoff's for digital music."

"Oh, like MP3s."

Lin would snort, but the kid needs an education more than derision. "Yes. You use that component to switch between two or more inputs, and if you have several speaker sets, you can switch between those as well. I have to admit, I spent quite a bit of time looking for a nice stereo system." Lin looks fondly at her gramophone. Old-fashioned or what, the music's always been the best thing about her apartment. "Kids these days only know combo systems, which were basically the player and attached speakers, like boomboxes --" she looks back at Korra, who's got a grin like a fox that she doesn't quite trust -- "you're not actually listening to me, are you?"

Korra grins. "Nope, but you should see the look on your face. All smiley and excited."

Lin raises an eyebrow, quickly erasing whatever emotion was written on her face.

Korra pouts. "But you look really cute when you smile!"

This is really not the kind of conversation Lin is expecting from Korra. It's almost like being with Kya, minus the sass.

"Just pick out another record, kid. Get a livelier one. Cabinet against the wall."

"Heh, yes ma'am."

Of course, Korra doesn't actually know a single record in her library. She rifles through the vinyl records without a single flicker of recognition.

"Little help here?"

Lin would roll her eyes, but she finds that she doesn't mind. "Hm. Try _Turnstiles_ , should be at the front, maybe fifth from the first one."

Korra doesn't break the gramophone as she slips the record on.

They sit back, sip tea at the balcony, and listen to the piano. Lin thinks that she's passing this round too easily. Again, there is that feeling of being with Kya. Hanging out with a friend. Korra is quiet, tapping her hands on the chair to this beat or that. Songs come and go.

"Hey, I like this," Korra says.

The gramophone is singing: _some folks like to get away -- take a holiday from the neighborhood._

Lin deigns to answer. "Republic State of Mind," she says.

"There's a rap song with a title like that," Korra says cheerfully.

_Rap_. Lin snorted. "Save your talking for after the song?"

Korra sheepishly throws the tea into her mouth like it's hard liquor. Good thing the evening air's cooled it or she'd have a burnt tongue. Of course Korra doesn't know of the long-dead art known as music appreciation. Most kids listened to music while they did something else. _Where was the fun in that_ , Lin wonders. She finds, with a little surprise, that she doesn't mind this being Korra's first lesson in the art of listening.

 

* * *

 

"You wouldn't happen to have a dock, would you Lin?"

Lin doesn't explain that she could hook up Korra's music player to her three-point-five millimeter jack. Not tonight. "Spares me your terrible music, kid."

"Me and your other visitor," Korra says with a faint smile.

Four in the morning, and this kid's all cheeky. Give the kid a hand, she takes an arm. Lin should shut down these tiny probing questions into her life. Shut them down and go back to her routine. But she looks at Korra and reads only earnestness in the younger girl's face.

"My other visitor shows up only when I have whiskey. And I stopped stocking that stuff a long time ago."

Korra has a grin now. "You got a gentleman caller, doncha." Korra laughs at the word. "Sorry. It's just some stupid thing I learned back when I still went to school."

Spirits. She's been assigned to the turn of the century. Maybe even further than that. Korra must be watching her, a dinosaur from another age. This place is a museum, a graveyard for taxidermied creatures. She, Lin, is dead. Formaldehyde where once she had blood. She reads the card in her head: _Stuffed specimen of a chief of police, habits include brooding, defining characteristics are bitterness and anger._

Why can't she change that, she wonders. Why can't something else be written on the card? She looks at Korra. What is it like, she wonders. To be young enough to change directions. Lin doesn't have that strength anymore.

She tries, for this evening, not to be made of formaldehyde. "No gentlemen callers," she replies. "I'm more impressed you paid attention at school."

Korra laughs. "I wasn't that horrible at it."

Well, at least one of them is having fun, Lin thinks. And maybe, if she could get her head out of brooding, she'd have quite a bit of fun too. Maybe. If only.

The record ends and neither of them stand up to feed the gramophone its next meal.

"Why'd you leave?" It's a surprisingly personal question; it catches Lin by surprise that she pries. She bites back all the other questions: was it a bad school?

"I didn't hate school," Korra says. "I didn't like it. But I didn't hate it. Zolt just had a better offer. He owned our neighborhood."

"The triads have left there, haven't they?"

"Yeah, but they're not gone," and the vehemence in Korra's voice surprises her. Korra looks in the general direction of the bay, despite the fact that she can't see it from here. "They're still in the other districts closer to Yue Bay. I've already moved Mom and Bolin and Mako out of the way there."

Lin would ask: _are you afraid_ , but that would be a slap to Korra's pride. Yes, she's afraid. No, she doesn't want to talk about it. Zolt may be gone, but the other triads aren't quite dead yet.

"I don't get why they don't all just get arrested. Everyone knows."

What she really means is, _you know._ _Why aren't you doing something_?

"You don't change the streets solely by arresting people," Lin answers. She's ruined the evening by opening this up. Who else but Kya would put up with her? Korra's closed off, her eyes looking into the past. Of all the things to bring up. School.

Korra looks at her, a thin line for lips. Sharp shadows draw her face, courtesy of the lamps from inside. "Then what's the police for?"

She's missing the point. Then again, she's twenty-one. Lin knows that twitchy, haunted look that sometimes appears on Korra's face: it's the face of someone who remembers that a hitman may hunt them down one day.

Remainders of an old past.

If she said _you'll be fine_ , it would be dismissive or patronizing to Korra. Quite simply, there are no words to comfort her with.

Lin hates these kinds of situations. Why did she open her mouth, anyway? The music was there to talk for them both, to put a pretty curtain over their lack of people skills.

She still hasn't answered Korra's question.

_To keep the peace. To enforce the law._ None of those answers really satisfy Lin. "Answer's not so simple," she simply says.

Korra looks as though she wants to press the issue. Now that's the Korra Lin remembers. Conflict written all over her face. But she says instead: "I guess it's not."

"I can hear Tenzin answering for you," Lin says, looking for that explosive girl she got to know so long ago.

Korra closes her eyes. "I spent years thinking about it. It's tiring. And," she looks at Lin, "I'm ruining the evening. Let's get another record."

"I opened the subject," Lin says. It's an apology.

"Yeah, but I'm being an ass. I know the answer's not simple." Korra tries to keep the anger from her words. "You should be taking it easy." Korra walks back inside. To Lin, her footfalls sound heavier than usual, but maybe it's all in her head. Korra plucks out a record at random. "Is... Thelonious Monk" -- she stumbles over the name -- "any good?"

"He's very good," Lin says. "But turn down the volume by around half."

The conversation stays unfinished, for by the time the trumpet is done, Korra is asleep on the chair. Lin should be annoyed -- kids these days got no taste -- but she finds it amusing instead. After all, Korra had tried her best. And, asleep on the chair, Korra looks like any other college kid, conking out after a paper.

Lin changes her bandages in the bathroom before waking Korra and telling her to go to bed.

 

* * *

 

A knock wakes Lin out of her three hour nap. She blinks. She gets up from the sofa.

It's seven thirty in the morning, the birds are in love with life, and Lin has a small headache.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Mail, maybe. One of those things that needs her signature.

She opens the door, still half asleep, in her pajamas.

Suyin's at the door. She gives her sister a wave. Lin closes the door.

More apprehensive knocking. Lin exhales. It's too early in the morning. But if she's honest with herself, it'll never be the time for Suyin.

Lin slides the balcony door open yet again, looks down at the street. Kids walking to school. No car. Suyin got here on public transport, or maybe she parked her car a few blocks away. Either way: she came alone, without any of her brood for backup in her usual operation to emotionally blackmail Lin to playing nice.

She opens the door.

Suyin smiles. Lin really wants to punch that triumphant grin from her face. It's amazing how her sister brings out the worst in her. "Morning," Suyin says, as though she hasn't wrecked things between them. As though this gulf isn't between them. As though everything would be fine, if only Lin would be _cool_ and join them on the other side.

"What'd you come for?"

"To check up on you. Have you changed your bandages?"

"Yes," Lin says, still not letting Suyin in.

There's a moment of empty quiet between them, where Lin refuses to look at her sister, which is expertly ruined by Korra opening the door across the hall. "G'morning," she says  to Lin. "Tenzin always insists on morning meditation, so --" Korra stops as Suyin pops her head past the door.

"Korra?"

"Director Beifong! Good morning!" Korra says, blushing in embarrassment. She's a little small in Lin's shirt despite her build. The neutral greys Lin prefer look drab on Korra. It's not something Lin cares about, but Suyin's here. Scrutinizing everything.

"I, uh, I was gonna take a shower. Um."

"Of course you can take a damn shower, kid."

Korra hops into the bathroom. Only now does Lin notice how even her pajamas are too long for Korra. Kid can't even roll the ends up properly.

Suyin's got this little smirk on her face. Lin hasn't changed her opinion that the only way to take it off is to punch it.

"You couldn't wait for your spy to come back with a report?"

The smile drops just a little. "Lin," Suyin says, gently. "I... Please. Let me in."

Another round of civility that Lin's not prepared for. Still she isn't prepared to ruin the morning, not in front of Korra. The kid would be collateral damage. She doesn't deserve that. Lin moves aside to let her sister in.

"Pu-erh?" Her half-sister's preferred tea is out her lips before she can even think. Tiny details that she can't shake off.

"Yes, please."

"Sit yourself down." Lin retreats to the kitchen.

She knows her sister is studying her apartment. Appraising it. She might break a teapot if she continues down this train of thought.

"You've got really nice speakers," Suyin says.

Lin thinks it's because her sister has nothing else to compliment. She opens the fridge and decides on leftover pork dumplings and rice with filling for breakfast. Not quite morning fare but quicker to prepare and somehow she'd bought a pack enough for three people. (And somehow, she'd run out of noodles.)

"Is that mom's gramophone?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. Well, glad to see you kept it. You were always playing something."

Lin remembers that. Playing music in her room while her half-sister had guests downstairs. Suyin was always the life of the party. Lin was the ghost that lived upstairs. A rumor, a whisper, something the younger kids would make a dare out of. Did Suyin really have a half-sister?

Pork dumplings steamed right and proper, Lin takes everything out to the dining table on a tray.

Three cups, three bowls, two pots of tea, three sets of chopsticks. She hasn't prepared breakfast for three people in a very long time.

"Thank you," Suyin murmurs, sipping the tea. Lin fusses over how to make space on her tiny dining table.

"There's no car outside. How'd you get here?"

"I snuck out, actually."

After she's placed all the food down, Lin walks to the phone. Dials Saikhan's line. Call summary: if any of the Beifong brats scream for their mother, she's with the Chief. She lets her annoyance show in her voice. Saikhan gets it.

_You never think about other people,_ Lin wants to growl out. But she knows what Suyin thinks of her: a grouchy old bitter lady. Total opposite of the life of the party. Spirits, she wants to break something. Maybe trample a dog's toy. Maybe upturn a chair. She does none of that. She sits down across her sister.

"I was worried about you."

The shower door opens. Korra steps out, toweling her hair. She's back to her clothes from last night. She bows a small bow to Suyin.

"I'll wash the pajamas," she says to Lin.

"Just sit down, food's getting cold. And never mind the pajamas."

"Good morning, Korra. Thanks for looking out for the Chief."

Korra looks sheepishly at them both.

 

* * *

 

Suyin gives her an acupuncturist's card. Korra insists on washing the dishes. The sounds of her apartment are, for once, coming from the land of the living, not a protesting gramophone and a preserved specimen of a Chief of Police.

It's not entirely unwelcome, if Lin is honest with herself. If only things could be so easy.

She checks the calendar on her work table.

"I have to feed Kya's cats." She'd forgotten. Kya had left for a few weeks. Lin had agreed to split kitty care with another one of Kya's friends, on the condition that Kya bring back something nice.

"Kya's cats?"

"Theater district," Lin says evasively. "I'll feed the cats first, drop you off at Zaofu, then take Korra to the Air Institute. You dorm there, right kid?"

"Yeah. But uh, my bike's here."

"It'll fit in the trunk."

 

* * *

 

 

_End chapter five._

 

I'm putting the A/Ns here cos the formatting is weird for the Entire Work view.

 

About Republic City:

As Republic City was inspired of a blend of cities, I've decided to use New York for some of the cultural markers (particularly the music and classy/gritty combo), and Shanghai for food, architecture, and clothes, same as the show.

Republic State of Mind's title in 'the real world' is New York State of Mind (link [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ol0dPJdzm1M)), by Billy Joel, from the album Turnstiles. The rap song Korra's referring to is JayZ's Empire State of Mind.

Thelonious Monk is a jazz player. A sample piece from him can be heard [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZ9El7k4mNo)

While most of the older crowd will need no introduction to Lin's music system, if one wants to know more, one can google the words 'stereo system' to find out how the older generation wired different music inputs into speakers. [Here](http://edition.cnn.com/2013/09/27/tech/innovation/death-stereo-system/) is an article about it.

_Rice with Filling_ is actually _Zongzi_ (pictured [here](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/42/Zongzi.jpg)) and is usually eaten as a snack. It's awesome. I have never heard the Western or English name for it, so I had to make do.

Pork dumplings are _shumai_ , pictured [here](http://www.mycookinghut.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/shumai.jpg). These can be eaten as a side dish with rice, as a snack, or in noodles. I think that 'pork dumplings' may be a somewhat generic term, so I decided to link pictures.

[This](http://www.allfishingbuy.com/Photos/Pu-erh-Tea.jpg) is Pu-erh tea.

And yes -- I know that the Avatarverse has its own food. I simply wished to expand on the... repertoire.

Remind Me (Arcadian Summer) is next on the update queue, maybe in 1 or 2 weeks. Cheers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated, please let me know what you think.
> 
> I'm... always on the look out for someone who can give my work a quick readthrough before posting.


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